Persie Merlin and the Door to Nowhere by Bella Forrest Page 0,32
speak up? Would she, with her family name over the entrance of the school, come to my defense in the face of discrimination?
No. She dropped her eyes to the ground, looking guilty and conflicted. I was on my own.
But then she seemed to find her courage and turned to Bike-Pump Biceps. “Is that true, Teddy?”
“It’s not discrimination,” Bike-Pump Teddy said. “It’s fact.”
Charlotte’s friend chimed in again, saying, “The truth is, you don’t belong here. Frankly, I don’t give a crap what you say your people did or didn’t do, or who your friends are. I just know you shouldn’t be here. You’ve got, what, six abilities, judging by those grubby marks on your face? That’s like using a talisman to cheat the exam system, while the rest of us have actually worked to get here. We studied, we slogged, and we earned our places. You make a mockery of that just by sitting in this room.”
“Hey, that’s stepping well over the line,” Charlotte said, looking around the room like a disappointed mother who’d discovered crayon all over the walls. I saw, for a moment, the kind of hunter she was—she radiated something electric and potent. Even if she had a terrible choice in who she considered friends. “I think I speak for my mother and my aunt when I say that Genie—or any other Atlantean—is welcome here.”
Her best pal didn’t look convinced. “I’m just voicing an opinion, Char.”
“Would you tell Harley or Finch Merlin that they don’t belong here?” I spat at the friend. “They’re as powerful as I am, but I bet you wouldn’t say a damn word because they look like you.” I willed myself not to cry. I wouldn’t show weakness, no matter how hard they beat me down, but my heart ached. It didn’t just hurt—it stung in the very essence of my being.
The friend shrugged, casting a cautious glance at Charlotte. “If the Merlins came here—you know, aside from that dud you strolled in with—I would say the same thing to them. You shouldn’t be tested the same way we are. There could be someone sitting here, right now, who deserved a place more than you, but because they weren’t pumped full of serums and spells since birth, they missed out.”
“Hear, hear,” said Bike-Pump Teddy.
“That’s enough!” Charlotte shouted. But she hadn’t interjected in time. A few minutes earlier, I could’ve kept my cool. Not now. Now, that friend of hers had crossed my line.
“Don’t you dare bring Persie into this,” I said. My breath hitched, and I saw red.
Charlotte’s friend opened her mouth like she wanted to chip in again, but Charlotte’s nostrils flared in anger, a clear warning signal, and the girl fell silent.
“Why not?” Bike-Pump Teddy asked, oblivious to Charlotte’s demeanor. “She definitely doesn’t deserve a place here. She’s the exact thing that we put in glass boxes.”
I lost it. They could call me what they liked and I’d take it, but not Persie. They feared what they didn’t understand. Fine. But they needed to educate themselves. And they’d pushed a big red button that they really shouldn’t have pushed.
Blue waves of pure Chaos surged out of me, scattering the crowd. Yelps and cries went up, but they hadn’t seen anything yet. My Water ability spread over the entire banquet hall. Hot chocolate rose up from mugs. Water erupted from bottles and urns and faucets. I even dragged in some water from the decorative fountain in the garden outside. It crashed against the windows, making them swing open. More screams and shouts echoed through the room, a few people diving for cover. Of course, they thought I was going to attack. That was all they thought an Atlantean was good for.
Instead, I drew all the liquid together into a swirling vortex in the center of the room. I only had to feel the atoms of it to get it to do what I wanted: the beauty of being a sentient. If they envied my skills, they could stuff it where the sun didn’t shine. I would never be ashamed of my abilities. I transformed the vortex into a huge sea serpent, which chased several students around the room. Next, I made it morph into a moving mass of watery women riding gigantic seahorses—a joke, to cool things off a bit. The riders dispersed to pursue my insulters, wielding frothing spears and slicing with wet swords. Nothing that could hurt anyone, just frighten them.
For my last trick, I brought the water back into the